Somewhere Only We Know
by Zighana
Summary: As Madison bides her time in Hell, she realizes she doesn't have to make it Hell. She could make it her and Misty's paradise. Two-Part series MadisonxMisty fluff.
1. Chapter 1

Somewhere Only We Know

When Madison Montgomery was little, she was taught religion. Her mother, before she used Madison as a meal ticket, taught her about angels and demons, Heaven and Hell, moral codes that aren't meant to be broken. Such teachings swirled into Madison's head before she grew old enough to question it. Now, 22 and dead, all she could do was roll her eyes.

There was no Anglo-Saxon man with a winning smile taking her delicate hand and leading her to the pearly gates. Instead, she's meets tall, dark, and smells like ganja, taking her hand and dragging her to the Underworld. At first she kicked and screamed, trying to gouge Kyle's eyes out as he looked coldly at her vacant body, but after she realized that this is her fate, she willingly accepts and walks down to Hell.

With enough grace and poise fit for a celebrity.

She breezes through her entrance to Hell with indignation; she didn't beg for forgiveness, doesn't give any empty promises of repentance and redemption. She handles her punishment quietly and enters her torture without complaint.

She suffered at first; her worst fears and insecurities coming to haunt her and torment her, but for what felt like years, it became fairly old, fairly quick. Her biggest discomfort is the repetition; she glides through her pain and misery without so much as a scream of terror and it makes Madison breathe easier.

As she stands in line to be beheaded by Kyle and a clingy Zoë again for that hour, she hears a loud, pained scream.

That's strange.

She tries to ignore it, but the noise gets louder, more miserable, less human.

It sounded like Misty.

Madison doesn't take kindly to Misty; they ended on the worst of terms after their catfight. But something about hearing her scream and wail in agony makes Madison squirm.

"Hold the guillotine, Kyle. I'll be right back," she tells her executioner before leaving the premises of her Hell. The illusions dissolve, and it's nothing more but her and a cold, sickly-green door. More of Misty's screams permeated through that door.

Madison bursts through, and is shocked at what she sees.

Frogs. Frogs being dissected, Misty reviving them, then Misty being forced to kill them again. The cycle kept repeating over and over in a span of minutes to where it was painful to watch. Madison walks to Misty, who's blind with grief, and grabs her hand.

"Snap out of it, swamp bitch. You're ruining my suffering. Snap out of it!" she hisses at her. Misty looks at Madison and moans.

"Why do I have to be punished more with _you_ being here? What have I done to deserve this?"

"Honestly, nothing." Madison admits. She shakes Misty, pushing the teacher out of their way so only Misty could see her. The frogs didn't matter, the teacher didn't matter, the classroom didn't matter; it was all frozen in time. Blank eyes stare at the couple with indignation.

"Look, I'm no saint, and neither are you, but you don't deserve to be here." She tells Misty, who's recovering from shock.

"We're going to be stuck here forever. You can either make this your Hell, or make this your paradise. Tell me what it is you love most."

"My…my garden," Misty whispers. Madison's thumbs trace her face; it's a soothing thing her mother used to do when she was scared.

"Imagine it."

Misty wastes no time. It isn't long before the classroom dissolved to a magnificent greenhouse in the back of her shack. Madison crinkles her nose at it but is content with Misty calming down and collapsing to the dirt.

The sun beams down in the greenhouse, bathing the duo in a warm glow. Stevie Nick's 'Leather and Lace' plays softly in the background, much to Madison's disgust. But there's something about seeing Misty smile and twirl in the mud that makes it worth it.

It isn't long before Misty talks to Madison, tries to engage her in conversation. Out of loneliness or desperation, Madison humors her; they talk, actually talk, about random subjects. No back-stabbing, no insults, not even a barbed compliment. It is peace at its best. Madison, fighting her Hell of being in this greenhouse, gets dirty and pulls up weeds and watches Misty place vegetables in a basket to make for a salad. She listens as Misty sings to Stevie as she waters the corpses squirming through the dirt. She waits for her in the shack, sitting in a table with only two chairs as she twirls her fingers into the old wood. Misty enters, warm smile on her face as she makes plates for two and makes the tea.

They eat in silence, unsure of what to think about the outcome. Papa Legba's bound to enter and ruin their haven any minute, but so far, nothing.

"This shouldn't have to be our punishment." Madison begins through a mouth full of carrot.

"This could be our home, a place where only we could be accepted. The living world couldn't handle me. This is the only place where we belong."

"This is Hell, Madison," Misty interjects. "This is our damnation for being who we are."

"If you stay with me," Madison grabs her hand. "This wouldn't be our Hell. This would be somewhere only we know. Somewhere," She squeezes.

"Somewhere you and I could call Home."


	2. Chapter 2: Sara (End)

**SOWK Chapter Two:**

**Sara**

For what felt like an eternity, Misty and Madison had done the impossible: made Hell into home, _together_.

They bonded; they realized they had more in common than they like to admit. Misty knows Madison doesn't like loneliness; she doesn't like the silence, the rejection, the inattentiveness the lone wolf lifestyle gave. Misty made sure to be attentive to her: comfort her, listen to her fears and anxieties, play the many roles Madison lacked in her life. Madison in turn knows that Misty doesn't like being left behind; being abandoned in her shack with no one to love or care for. Madison does what she can; caring for someone other than herself didn't come easy to her. As she lies in the same bed with Misty, smells her hair, feels her warmth, hears her soft coos in the darkness, she wonders if she's doing right for once.

Their days consist of waking up, talking, playing in the garden, arguing, laughing, and sleeping. It brought peace and harmony between the odd couple. But, as they dreaded ages, perhaps centuries ago, their harmony would be ruined by the entity known as Papa Legba.

He breezes into their home unannounced, darkening the atmosphere with every step. Madison was making tea when she sees him, and she crinkles her nose in disdain.

"Hello, Ladies. I'd love what you've done with the place. Would it hurt if you'd invited me for a…housewarming?"

He tips his hat and places it on the makeshift coat-rack. Madison bristles and marches up to the man, eager to kick him out of her…_their_ home.

"Why do you come now to ruin our paradise? It's bad enough being in Hell," She glares. Papa Legba laughs heartily, making her shiver. He motions to the backdoor and snaps his fingers. The door shuts in a heartbeat, shutting Misty out. The shack begins to darken, stages of deterioration being evident. When the temperature drops forty degrees, she knows she needs to watch her words carefully.

"You, Madison Montgomery, amaze me," he begins, sitting in one of the chairs.

"You murder, lie, cheat, steal, and even tried to kill Misty," he jerks his thumb to the garden. "But here you are, being actual _friends_ with the girl! Comforting her, caring for her, ruining her suffering and sacrificing your comfort for hers. That's the most selfless I've ever seen you, and I must say I'm impressed. And bored," He yawns for dramatic effect.

"I've observed you long enough and your kindness is boring me. I want drama, action, pain and misery. Your selflessness is killing my appetite and even, warming a piece of me I thought had died centuries ago. So, I have a preposition,"

"What is the preposition? What is the catch?"

"Smart girl. Well, I have the power to take people _out_ of Hell as well as putting them _in_. _But_," he looks at Madison's hopeful eyes, "I only wish to take _one_ out and keep the other one _here_."

"You sick asshole," she snarls.

"I've been called a lot of things, but I don't care. I want to test you, see if you really changed."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Tell me who deserves to stay in Hell and who deserves go back to the Living."

"Why would you make _me _do this? Why not _Misty_?"

"As I've said before, you've amazed me with your change of character. You've redeemed yourself, therefore deserving of a second shot. You have till this hourglass," a large hourglass appears in the palm of his hand. "Runs out."

"What happens if I run out of time?"

"You both will be here, and this little home will be ruined. Misty will be separated from you and she'll suffer more for your indecision. Don't play games with me, girl. I always win."

He vanishes into a cloud of smoke.

Within seconds, everything went back to normal, and Misty enters the home with a basket of herbs, spices, and catfish.

"It took me forever to catch these little critters but…why do you look like your lipstick got crammed in horse shit?" Misty inquires.

Madison explains the preposition to her in minutes. The flower child listens, head in her hands.

"I knew something like this would happen. We got too comfortable," she begins. She looks to the woman she's come to know, the woman that became her world in for what felt like years, and fights the tears threatening to spill.

"Pick yourself," she says finally.

"No, Misty."

"Yes, Madison! When I come to the living, what will be there for me? For all we know we've been here for _centuries_! Cordelia, Zoë, Kyle, Queenie, everyone except Marie could be _dead_! Then where will I be, Madison? Alone in my shack, miserable and cold! Without you, I don't have anyone to call home. You're all I have."

"And you're all I have too," Madison confesses, daring herself to look at her.

"We need each other now. Without the other, neither of us can survive." With that, Misty retreated into their room and slammed the door. Madison, for the first time since Kyle's rejection, cries.

They play the waiting game now, every grain counting down their limited time. Their hours become long; their time spent staring at the hourglass, the atmosphere cold and silent. The only time they talk is to bicker over who should go back to Living.

Madison looks at Misty from across the room, trying to reflect.

All her life, she had to worry and love no one but herself. She lived and took whatever she wanted, damn the consequences. But when she finally decides to do right, she has to suffer. She knows her choice isn't easy; it's a double-edged knife for both of them. Stay in Hell and let Misty suffer alone, or abandon Misty and suffer the pain of betrayal and loneliness, these were choices she can't make.

She watches her sleep, her pillow once again stained with tears and she knows it's because of her. She misses the laughter, the warmth, the sunshine that glowed inside of her swamp woman. She dares herself to come to her, touching her hair. She always loved her hair, the way it matched her carefree personality. She wipes the drying tears from her cheeks and kisses them.

"_Never change, don't you ever stop._" She sings softly.

"_Call me…Home_." Vignettes of her bright and happy Misty plays in her mind, and she allows herself to cry again, only in the comfort of their room. She knows what she must do. For her.

"_Why do you like Stevie Nicks so much?" Madison asks in annoyance as Misty dusts the walls, humming to the song playing._

"_Because her music is good for the soul, good for the heart. She got me through hard times with her music."_

"_So did Eminem, but you don't see me playing his music 24/7."_

"_Don't _ever_ compare that garbage to Ms. Stevie Nicks. Her music actually has a message."_

_Madison rolls her eyes, snorting when Misty throws a roll of paper towels at her._

"_Well what does her music say? Wear terrible fashion?"_

"_No, and she has _great _fashion taste by the way. If you listened closely to her music, you'd understand. Like Sara."_

"_Sara?"_

"_Sara. It's one of my favorite songs, next to Landslide, Leather and Lace, and Rhiannon."_

"_What's Sara about?"_

"_Listen to her." _

_And she does. She hears of optimism, heartache, love. She feels a flutter feeling in her gut when she hears "When you build your house, then call me, Home."_

"_I think she wrote this about a love lost. About a love she'll keep waiting for until it takes the end of time." Misty explains. "I listen to this song when I get my heart broken."_

"_You're the poet in my heart. Never change, never stop," Madison sings. Despite her misgivings, she liked the way the music was soft, gentle, magical even. She smiles as she hears Stevie's voice carry her tune with every lyric. When the song is over, she looks to Misty, who smirks._

"_Not bad for an old lady, huh?"_

"_Shut up."_

_They get ready for bed, with Misty going to sleep early and Madison quietly and secretly playing 'Sara' repeatedly. There was something about that song that sticks with her, makes her smile and cry at the same time. Could it be that this song tells her a truth she tries to ignore, of her happily ever after never ending the way she wanted?_

'_In the Sea of Love, where everyone would Love to drown,'_

_Madison thinks of Misty, wild and free, smiling at her as she twirls in the flowers and Madison realizes that this won't last forever. _

_People like her don't deserve happy endings._

"Time's up," a voice breaks the ex-socialite from her pained memory. Papa Legba sits in their home once more, making the two women cringe.

"I choose Misty to go back to the land of the Living." Madison blurts out. The Voodoo King raises his eyebrow in amusement while Misty looks on with horror and protest.

"Is that your final decision? Do you know what awaits you?"

"Yes and yes." She replies.

"Well, that wasn't the drama I was hoping for. Come, child," he grabs Misty's hand delicately, "Playtime's over."

"No, I don't want to go, not without Madison!"

"A deal's a deal. She sacrificed herself for your freedom. You should be grateful."

"No, no, _no_!" Misty tried to run away, come to Madison. Papa Legba, growing impatient with her defiance, grabs her wrist and drags her away.

"Madison, _Madison_!" she calls for her friend, her _love_. She looks back at her with tears in her eyes.

"_When you build your house, call me Home_," she sings to her.

Misty tearfully nods her head in resignation and she takes her trek to the Living obediently. Bright light enveloped Misty, giving her an angelic glow. She looks back at Madison, blows her a kiss, and vanishes.

~Living~

Misty wakes up in her shack with a gasp. What has happened? Everything feels so…foggy. Like she's slept for centuries. She stretches her body like a cat and walks out to the shack to check on her crops. With any luck, her peas are coming up fresh and ready for eating. She smiles at the thought. As she grabs her water canteen, she looks at her patched up Stevie and hits play. She whistles as she waters the plants, breathing in the fresh air of nature and life. As she listens to Stevie sing, her water canteen drops to the floor. She drops also, an overwhelming grief washes over.

She wails in pain, hot tears coming from nowhere. She sobs and moans until her voice becomes hoarse. She lies on her side as she weeps, hoping the seas would swallow her hole. She sees a beautiful blonde woman with smoky eyes, bright pink lips and a smile that could kill, ingrained into her mind and the biggest wave of sorrow comes.

"_When you build your house, call me Home."_ She sings to herself, her lips tugging at the sides.

"_When you build your house, call me Home."_

**~Fin~**

**(AN: It's finally finished! This story is inspired by Lily Allen's cover of "Somewhere Only We Know", which is an absolute tear-jerker once you see the music video. I picked the song "Sara" by Fleetwood Mac because I felt it was a good send-off for the two. That song can also make you cry if you let it. Well that's all. Thank you guys for reading and supporting me! Much appreciated! If you have any questions about this story I'll be happy to answer them! Zighana: OUT!)**


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